


dead poets society

by bahepin



Category: Leah on the Offbeat - Becky Albertalli, Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli, The Upside of Unrequited - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Multi, no one dies don't worry lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 05:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15284637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bahepin/pseuds/bahepin
Summary: He whom a dream hath possessedknoweth no more doubting.- O'Sheel+dead poets society au.





	dead poets society

"It is a pleasure to have you here Abigail," 

So, details, like starting a new year or knowing nothing about yourself or the city you've moved in, aren’t terrifying. Walking through these full halls all by yourself. Scanning for friendly faces that'd lend you a hand. It isn't mortifying. At all. 

 

"Are you excited to be joining us here in Creekwood High?" Ms. Knight asks while examining Abby's fidgety posture. 

 

"Oh, yes! I'm eager."

 

"Very well," She nods. "I'll let you go to class." 

 

"Thank you, have a nice day!"

 

 

"Hold up-" 

 

"Fucked up huh?"

 

"Mr. Leverett is gone?" Bram hears Nick say to Garrett as they sit in front of him.

 

"And you're sad about that?"

 

"Well," he pauses, taking a long sip out of his tea. "I always half-assed his assignments and still got A's."

 

"How are you in AP English?" Bram disrupts them under his breath.

 

Simon and Leah arrive behind them.

 

"Not even he knows how." Leah teased. 

 

"Hey, Leah, I heard you went to summer school." Nick continues.

 

"I just needed some credits with Ms. Livingstone."

 

"I aced trig," Garrett brings up. 

 

"So?"

 

"We can start a study group." He winks.

 

"You don't know shit about history." 

 

Nick chuckles. It's true, though. One time, Garrett called Bram at 2 in the morning crying out he was going to fail the exam and pleaded to help him study. It took them two bags of family sized chips, thirty-seven open Wikipedia tabs and an unhealthy amount of red bull to give up. To answer Garrett’s prayers, the midterm got postponed due to Ms. Livingstone’s twin sister’s sudden baby shower. But, isn’t that what friends are for? Supposedly? 

 

"Go and ask Addison for help then,"

 

"How does he do it? He's a complete moron." Simon hisses.

 

"What's his specialty?"

 

"Brown- Nosing?" Leah suggests.

 

They all cover their faces to hush their laughter. Leah always has her way to be edgy, sarcastic and hilarious. She knows how to interact with people. Out of everyone, Bram relates to her the most. She's always listening in, taking the situation quietly. He wishes he could talk to her more. He wishes he’d have the ability to talk with someone. Anybody. Maybe if he was different he’d be able to chat with Simon, get to know him better, stop embarrassing himself. There's an empty seat beside him and Simon is rocking the chair back and forth. He's so close to sitting there, and if he does Bram's sure he'll burst into tears. 

 

"Sorry, Leah," Nick wiggles his finger at her face. "You can't sit with us." 

 

"There's literally one empty seat right here."

 

"Nope, that's for Simon." 

 

"Don't be an ass Eisner," Garrett demands "Here, Burke." He stands up abruptly, completely missing the fact that they're just joking. 

 

"Stay here," Simon tells her.

 

"No, it's cool." She says. "I'll sit over there. I need to be close the socket anyway to plug in my phone."

 

She waves at the boys but Nick blocks her way and stretches his arms to hug her, she gives in and kisses his cheek. It's weird how warm and affectionate they are with each other. The caressing, the hugs, the kisses, the squeezes. Bram's been hanging out with these people since 9th grade. He's somehow, miraculously, inside their group but he can’t make a connection with any of them. Except for Garrett. He knows he stands out, but at the same time, he's indifferent. Always felt like he's pushed aside. 

Back to reality, Simon is sitting next to him meaning he'll stay there for the rest of the year. While trying to not brush their arms accidentally and hiding his slight blush, Bram doesn't notice the soft whistling entering the classroom.

A middle-aged man approaches, wearing a collared shirt and a tie. He stares out the window, eyes unfocused. A calm energy filling the place. 

Everyone's faces are concerned. Bram's dad has told him how nerve-wracking and exhausting first days are. Not only for the students but for the teachers as well. You need to get up earlier than you were used to during summer break. You meet new faces, learn new names, and try to not forget the names you just learned. It's adjusting yourself to a wholly unnecessary change. But their new teacher doesn't seem bothered by it all. 

Nick hides his tea below his desk, slapping Garrett’s needy hand when he asks for a sip. Bram notices Simon's restlessly bouncing his leg, he also notices that Leah is not alone anymore but sharing glances with apparently a new girl beside her, with curly long hair pulled up in a ponytail, wearing a jean jacket and glasses similar to Simon's. Eyes wide open waiting impatiently for any indication from the teacher.

The whistling stops and the man smirks. 

 

"Well?" He looks around the class "Follow me,"

 

He takes a straight edge ruler laying on the desk and he's out the door.

The group takes their stuff, dazed. And they follow the man. This is nothing like any of the classes they’ve had before. And it just started. 

 

“What’s going on?” Nick whispers. Bram just shrugs.

 

“This dude’s weird.” Leah, who reunited with them taking the new girl with her, whispers back. 

 

“But different,” says Simon.

 

“Spooky, if you ask me,” replies Garrett. 

 

New girl waves, in need of orientation. 

 

“Hi,” she says softly, “I’m Abby. Abby Suso.”

 

“Suso, huh?" Nick asks, "Perchance, are you related to Nadine Suso?”

 

“Wait,” she turns surprised, “That’s my aunt! How do you know her?”

 

“I have friends up in DC, your aunts had a small party once and they hired us to play for them.” He smiled at the memory “I remember your aunt because she let me eat extra red velvet cupcakes from the dessert table.”

 

“Oh yeah, my cousin made those.” She giggles, “What do you play?”

 

“Guitar.”

 

“And the clarinet,” Simon adds.

 

When Nick was younger his parents needed to keep him busy, both as doctors they didn't have time for him in the afternoons. Ending with Nick falling in love with his babysitters and trying a million different hobbies, from video games to the disturbing clarinet. 

 

“Anyway,” Nick coughs, “I’m Nick.”

 

The boys introduce themselves and make a silent small talk while they follow the teacher, whose name they discovered is Mr. Wise. Simon instantly clicks with Abby and tells her he likes her glasses, calling them glasses buddies. But Abby was in a hurry that morning, nervous for her first day and forgot to put her contacts on so she doesn't wear them often. 

They arrive at the library and Mr. Wise makes them sit on the floor in a circle, he stands in the center. 

 

“Oh Captain, My Captain,” he startles the class energetically, “Who knows where that’s from?”

 

No one raises a hand. There's a reason why Nick aced last semester so easily. Why even Bram occasionally didn't care to put in the additional effort he always puts. Mr. Leverett's classes were unbelievably easy. He paid little attention to his students, resulting in them not learning anything. Though it was relieving at times, it was also infuriating. Your job as a student in his class wasn’t validated, pushing you to the edge. 

 

"It was written by a poet named Walt Whitman about Mr. Abraham Lincoln." he explained, "In this class, you may refer to me as either Mr. Wise or Oh Captain, My Captain." 

 

Garrett grins at Bram, later realizing that Mr. Wise is talking seriously and looking at him.

 

"What's your name, young man?" He asks him. 

 

“Garrett Laughlin.”

 

“An unfortunate name, Mr. Laughlin.” He smiles, “Could you open your text, page sixty and read to us the first strophe of the poem.”

 

“To The Virgins to Make Much of Time?” The group turns into giggles.

 

“That’s the one.” Mr. Wise confirms.

 

"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may  
Old time is still a flying  
And this same flower that smiles today  
Tomorrow will be dying."

 

Mr. Wise nods his head and starts walking around the shelves, then turns to his students.

 

“Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,” he begins, “Carpe Diem. That’s the Latin term for that verse. Anyone knows what Carpe Diem means?” 

 

Seize the day. Trusting as little as possible in the future. Bram’s mom reminds him every day to be brave, to take leaps, big steps to the things he finds scary. He tries, but it constantly ends with one step forward and two steps back. 

 

“Seize the day?” Abby answers apprehensive.

 

“Seize the day. That’s correct Ms. …?”

 

“Suso.”

 

“What does the author mean by this?” He throws his arms to the ceiling at the question, “Why does he write these lines?”

 

“Because he’s in a hurry?” Someone guesses.

 

“Because we’re flies!” Mr. Wise exclaims, for someone who has to wake up at 5 in the morning to get ready for work, he’s really motivated. “Did you know that the lifespan of a fly is 28 days? 28 miserable days. We’re just waiting for death to arrive.” 

 

“I’m scared.” Leah murmurs.

 

"We have limited springs, summers, autumns, and winters." He continues, "All of the faces surrounding us, we don't know if we'll be able to see them again. Mom! Dad! For the first time, I’m thinking past tomorrow.”

 

“That’ll make a great song lyric one day,” Simon mutters.

 

“Stand up.” Mr. Wise orders. “Walk around the shelves, would you.”

 

Standing in between the shelves, they noticed yearbooks are laying on the middle of the floor. Opened wide, black and white pictures looking up at them. Leah is the first one to notice Simon's parents. His mom looking at the camera with a bright smile, she was the valedictorian of her class. While his dad, on the right corner of the page, has a cheeky grin. You can see the resemblance, her blonde hair, and his light eyes, you put them together and add a bit of dorkiness and you get Simon Spier. 

Mr. Wise follow them to look at the yearbooks he laid out.

 

“They’re not that different from you, are they?” 

 

He tells them how he went to Creekwood too, and how he was just like them. A hormonal, moody teen. Even though he understands how cliché that sounds, he lets them know. They all have the same dreams, the same hope in their eyes. But he also remarks the importance of their actions. Some of those faces gave up, they couldn't reach their desires. They waited for the right moment to come, but it never came. Others didn't wait, they went for it. Even if it meant to lose everything they had. 

 

“Can you hear them whisper?”

 

We pass our days, wondering if what we’re doing is wrong or right. We limit our souls. Every force, energy or commotion we put into the world comes back to us. Every thought, every wish we make. They build us into what we are today. 

Something rises inside of the students. They spent their whole lives hearing but not listening. Words dripping out a mouth, finally have some sort of weight. 

 

“Can you hear them whisper their legacy?”

 

They lean in.

 

“Carpe Diem.”

**Author's Note:**

> ayyy look at me doing a multi-chaptered fic, huh
> 
> let me know what you guys think


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